


May you find a haven

by Amazaria



Series: Aren't you noble (aren't you tired) [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A How-To Guide by Peter Parker and Tony Stark, Advice, Avoiding your feelings and caring too much about people:, Gen, Having conversations about mental health and other things to do on a rooftop, Mentorship, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Post-Spiderman: Homecoming, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Relationship study of some kind?, Rooftop Conversation, Teen-rated for swears, The author's insistent feelings about Tony Stark, The author's insistent feelings about morality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24632503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amazaria/pseuds/Amazaria
Summary: Peter's shoulders went down; he slouched on himself once again, the alertness leaving his body as the panic disappeared from his eyes. "Good, that's good," he let out. "Always cool to know people aren't dying, keep it that way, world, good job."And then Peter picked up a highlighter once again, and went back to hunching over the papers set over the textbook in his lap, looking an explosion wouldn't be enough to tear him away from what looked like completely unintelligible notes.There was a moment of silence. Tony raised an eyebrow."Oh, so you're really going to make me ask. Okay."Peter hummed, somewhat interrogatively."No, Peter- What the actual hell are you doing studying on the roof of one of a building? In the middle of a Saturday afternoon? In your suit? You know, I feel like Spiderman's identity as a teenager will be significantly less secret once the photos of him pouring over highschool textbooks start rolling in."(or: in which Peter is doing homework on a rooftop Tony just happens to pass by, Tony is excruciatingly bad at hiding that he cares, and everyone has limits.)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Aren't you noble (aren't you tired) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467814
Comments: 6
Kudos: 113





	May you find a haven

"What is it with you and roofs, seriously, Spiderling?" Asked Tony as he opened the roof access to one of the nameless buildings he was pretty sure Stark Industries owned. 

(And if it didn't own it, then the company who did needed better, less awestruck security.)

"Don't call me that," mumbled Peter, leaning over a book, papers and pens scattered around him in a colorful mess. "And it's not a thing, it's really not, I just couldn't find a place to study, I have this English homework and I _just_ remembered I have a history test-"

He interrupted himself suddenly, lifting his head just enough to confirm who he was talking to. His eyes went wide.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Hello, Spiderling," Tony replied, pointedly using the nickname once again. Peter didn't notice, or if he did the panic in his eyes was enough to mask it.

"Mr. Stark," Peter said again, more firmly, as if he had only just confirmed that Tony wasn't a hallucination. "Is something happening? I can have my stuff packed in like, two seconds, just wait- or I could just leave it here if it's urgent, I mean, saving people comes first, obviously-"

_He's going to die of a heart attack at thirty,_ thought Tony distractedly, and then winced at his own joke, because sometimes his brain really went too fast for him.

"Oh, hey, no, wait- no disasters happening, kid, just relax, okay? I happened to be passing by, is all. I just wanted to confirm that you hadn't ruined my suit or broken too many bones during the two seconds I let you without supervision for."

Peter's shoulders went down; he slouched on himself once again, the alertness leaving his body as the panic disappeared from his eyes. "Good, that's good," he let out. "Always cool to know people aren't dying, keep it that way, world, good job."

And then Peter picked up a highlighter once again, and went back to hunching over the papers set over the textbook in his lap, looking an explosion wouldn't be enough to tear him away from what looked like completely unintelligible notes.

There was a moment of silence. Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so you're really going to make me ask. Okay."

Peter hummed, somewhat interrogatively.

"No, Peter- What the actual hell are you doing studying on the _roof_ of one of a building? In the middle of a Saturday afternoon? In your _suit_? You know, I feel like Spiderman's identity as a teenager will be significantly less secret once the photos of him pouring over highschool textbooks start rolling in."

"We're on a roof, Mr. Stark," pointed out Peter, sounding defensive. He didn't raise his head to meet Tony's eyes, and instead started playing with the pen in his hands. "Nobody's going to be able to take any picture."

"Yeah, me sneaking up on you just now says the contrary, unfortunately. Just- once again, it bears repeating, what the _fuck,_ kid?"

Peter sighed, frustrated; he let go of his pen, closed and opened his hand once, twice, looking like he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. 

"I _couldn't find a place to study,_ " he said, stressing the entire sentence like that somehow explained it.

Tony raised an eyebrow again.

"I heard you fine the first time, don't worry, I just don't get what that's supposed to mean. You definitely have a room, and I feel like you probably have a desk in that room. Isn't that better for your back, or something like that?"

The boy sighed again, tiredly; he made for such a strange picture, at this exact moment, a teenager in a superhero suit with books scattered around him and a defeated look on his face. 

"I have a room, and I have a desk," said Peter, dejectedly, "but- I couldn't study there."

"Well that doesn't make sense to me, kid."

Peter opened his mouth, and stopped himself before actually saying something; his shoulders went down, and he started getting up to pick up his papers.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll get out of here, I get it. You're right. Sorry for bothering you, Mr. Stark."

That wasn't exactly what Tony had wanted to accomplish. Granted, he was never sure of what he wanted to accomplish with Peter; the general aim was "keeping him alive", and beyond that, the _how_ s and _why_ s, well, it was a blur. He felt distinctly as if he had taken a step in the wrong direction right now, though. The vivid memory of what had happened the last time he hadn't listened to Peter kept him from just shrugging the feeling off.

"No, wait, hey-" The teen was still organizing his papers and shoving them into his backpack; he took a moment to look up, turning to face Tony fully for the first time since the start of the discussion.

And it hit the older man all at once, how small the boy looked, how he kept blinking like it was taking all he had not to fall asleep; how his hands almost looked like they were shaking, how the bags under his eyes became more noticeable with each passing second.

Tony forgot his previous question and settled on a new one.

"Peter, are you okay?"

Peter, eyes wide once again, stood still, as if taken aback. His fingers tightened their grip on the fabric of his backpack; in the dimming light of a late summer evening, its yellow stood out too much against the red of his suit. 

"Yeah, of course, Mr. Stark," he said, a little too quickly. "I really am sorry for bothering you, it's just- well, you wouldn't get it- I won't come back here, okay? I'll get back home, but I really need to finish this English homework, so, uh-"

He made to pull back his mask over his head, as if preparing to leap over the side of the building to swing back home; that would only happen over Tony's dead body and nothing less.

"Okay, no, we're rewinding this conversation. Sit down, you're not going anywhere- and stop looking at me like that, kid, jeez, I'm not going to give you detention!"

Peter relaxed, if forcing himself to blink and his shoulders to be a little less hunched counted as relaxing. He looked like he was expecting a fight- or worse, a beatdown.

(And that looked so _wrong_.

Tony had seen the boy face nightmares, and death, and the cracks of his bones and the ringing in his ears with little to no fear- so why did he look so defeated, right now?

Peter had thrown himself on top of a plane just because _people were going to get hurt_ \- had looked down as the ground kept getting further away, had dragged himself through fire and debris and left without waiting for an apology, or a thank you, or medical assistance. Peter was brave, so brave, in a way that sometimes scared Tony, because bravery was just another way of rushing to your death.

Bravery just meant you kept your shivers suppressed just enough that you could aim- bravery meant you went first, to combat or to death.)

"Kid," said Tony, hesitating to reach out- not sure he had the right, or the courage to see Peter maybe shy away. "What's the problem? And don't tell me I "won't get it". I'm a genius. I'll get anything you tell me."

(Which was a huge lie. If Peter started talking about feelings, then Tony was fucked.)

Peter looked at him like he was already seeing him leave, and Tony hated it, and could do nothing about it.

(Tony missed, terribly, the way the teen used to look at him, before he left him to be crushed by a building and fight alone.

But he hadn't earned it back then, and he had definitely lost the right to Peter's unwavering faith now- and better that way, better for him to know that sometimes your heroes stabbed you right in the heart, spit in your face and road off in the dark with your nightmares, laughing at you and your stupid little faith in them all the while.)

"I can't _focus_ , Mr. Stark. I try! I swear I do, but-"

Tony frowned. Peter didn't look like he was lying, and to tell the truth, he seemed frustratedly desperate, like he wanted to scream; like he knew it wouldn't actually solve anything, but wanted to still, just for the sake of doing something.

"Is it your enhanced senses?"

"Yes- no-"

"One or the other. Not both."

"Well, it _is_ both! Kinda." Said Peter somewhat angrily; then seemed to realized he'd gotten angry, and looked a little more exhausted, if that was possible. He took a deep breath, then continued: "It's just- I keep getting distracted, all the time. Like- like- like I'll be studying, right? 'Cause it's important and stuff, and also 'cause it's a group project so I can't let my group down- anyway I'll be studying, and I hear something, like something falling down or someone screaming- and it's not like I can just turn it off, you know? Not that I would if I could, or maybe I would, but-"

"Kid," said Tony. "Breathe. I'm here to help, not- I don't know, tear down your science presentation."

Peter looked at him for a second, unreadable, then back at his own hands. 

"Anyway," he said. "I hear something, anything, and no matter how small it is I keep thinking that- it could be _something,_ you know? It could be something I could help with, and instead of helping I'm just working on some dumb _History project_ \- and what if something happens and I didn't come, and then I'm too late? And I keep thinking about that, until I can't think about anything at all, and I can't- I mean, I _know_ I can't help everyone or barge into strangers' apartments just because I'm worried, but I just can't turn my brain off, and-" He sighed, abruptly, and his tone took on a pleading note. "Mr. Stark, I really can't focus. I'm not being difficult, I _swear_."

Tony took a second to think, which Peter must have interpreted as disappointment or annoyance; he started waving his hands around wildly.

"You know what, forget it- I mean, it's stupid, I'll deal with it- I _am_ dealing with it- Not that there's anything to deal with, I mean, I'm fine-"

"Spiderling," said Tony, "heroes don't lie."

(Which was a lie.)

"I'm not _lying!_ I really am fine, Mr. Stark. Just- just tired. And stressed. And actually I really need to finish that essay, and this is the only place that's quiet enough, so please, just- let it go. I swear I'm not going to do something stupid, or- or let it mess with me and hurt someone, or, or- damage your suit or anything, I'm not going to mess up, I just need- I need to focus."

"And you didn't think," asked Tony, in a tone of voice that was a little softer than he had planned it on being, "that I could help with that? Kid, I made your suit- you must have noticed that I did something for your senses, right?"

"No, I know. That's why I'm wearing it right now, I'm not just- just being _reckless_ , I wouldn't do that! And it does help, a little, but- but it's made for battle, and I'm doing homework, so."

There was a silence, and Peter zipped his backpack shut and threw it over his shoulder, suddenly avoiding Tony's eyes. 

"It's better than what I had, Mr. Stark. I'm grateful, really," and maybe he was, but he still looked miserable, and frustrated; and Tony had never quite learned to leave well enough alone.

"I could improve it, you know. Make like, headphones and glasses, something like that, make it fit for you even when you're not fighting- I mean, I had to make sure I didn't blind you during fights, but if you're just studying that's a completely different context-"

"Mr. Stark, you don't have to," tried Peter, tiredly. Tony looked up and frowned; he had expected- well, not that.

Wide eyes, rather, embarrassment, maybe, wild gestures, all the things that Peter did when someone offered help, like he hadn't ever seen it; like he'd gotten so used to hiding the fact that he needed help that someone noticing counted as another mistake the boy liked to hang on to, and never let go of.

"Well, sure I do, kid. It's an easy fix, really, you should have come to me earlier-"

"Yeah," muttered the teenager, eyes glued on the cracked pavement of the roof. He didn't look grateful, or relieved, as he had each time Tony had offered a piece of his technology to him. No, he looked washed out, maybe a little resentful of something, but Tony for all his genius couldn't figure out what.

"Kid, what did I do? Did I- I don't know, miss your birthday?"

At that Peter frowned, and looked up, and let his backpack fall just as his fists tightened. There was no anger in his movement; there was frustration and helplessness and a disgust that the teen could never have aimed at anyone but himself.

"You didn't do anything! I mean- it's not bad, you didn't do anything wrong, Mr. Stark, really, it's just-"

He rocked on his heels, as if testing his balance, as if ready to leap or run or hide; but he just let out a breath and said, voice strikingly confident:

"I'm the worst hero ever."

"What?" Said Tony. "No you're not. Hate to break it to you, but a number of heroes are internationally wanted criminals right now, you'd have to try really hard to beat that."

"No, but look! I can't even do homework on time!"

"Lots of people can't do homework on time, that doesn't make them bad people."

"Obviously," retorted Peter tightly, some kind of emotion piercing through the frustration, something like pleading maybe. "But- Mr. Stark, I'm supposed to do better than that, I'm a hero, I'm supposed to- to save people, and I can't even do _homework_!"

"It's really not that important, you know, once you're in college you'll realize you can totally turn things in late-"

"Mr. Stark, that's not the point!" Yelled Peter, and then seemed to realize he had yelled and looked at a loss, on the edge of some kind of tears. "I'm a terrible hero. I can't do this, people are going to die because I'm being so-"

He stopped himself and took a shaky breath, hands still in fists, perhaps to stop them from shaking.

"Peter," slowly let out Tony, "you're not a bad hero, you couldn't be even if you wanted to. I wouldn't have helped you- I wouldn't offer to help you _right now-_ if you were. Where's this coming from?"

"Nowhere," he muttered. "I'm telling the truth."

"Neither you nor I care about homework and we both know it."

"But-"

"Come on, Peter. Get to the point, okay? I'm a genius, there's a 90% chance I'll be able to help with whatever's going on in your head."

"I don't- there's no point to get to, Mr. Stark. I get distracted by stupid things and I still have to do homework instead of helping people and, and- maybe I can't do it all, and this isn't even college, this is _highschool._ What's going to happen when I'm in college? If I even get to be in college, but- it's already so much, and maybe- maybe I don't get to be Peter Parker _and_ Spiderman."

"What?" Said Tony before he could stop himself. "No. Wait, what do you mean? Peter Parker _is_ Spiderman."

"Not to the rest of the world, he isn't," argued Peter.

"What, are you after glory?"

" _No!_ No. I just- I don't want to stop being Spiderman, but-"

"But you wouldn't mind stopping being Peter Parker?" Asked Tony, very quietly uneasy.

Peter shrugged.

"It's not that, not exactly. It's not like I have- two personalities, or two lives. It's just- isn't Spiderman more important than Peter Parker? Isn't a superhero more important than a highschool student?"

Tony stayed silent for a moment, then sat down on the cement. Hopefully, it wouldn't start raining soon: this felt like a long conversation.

"Who would you save?"

"What?"

"Who would you save?" Repeated Tony, feeling so, so weighted down. "Between a highschool student, and a superhero, if you had to choose? And don't tell me both. We've already covered that you can't save everyone."

Peter looked at him, at a loss for words. Tony waited, and felt as if the sky was closing in on itself, folding over him and Peter both; like this was important, like this moment was meaningful, but never in a way that would never make it into articles, because people cared more about the mistakes you made than they did about how hard you tried to do good. 

From the street came sounds of traffic, occasional shouts, and bird cries drowned-out in the ambient noise; sounds of a city that Tony tried to protect, of people that he tried to help, so hard. I t was infuriating, to realize that it would always let him down, in some way, whenever it made mere boys that deserved the world question whether or not their daily life was useful enough to matter; whenever it spit in the face of all that Tony wanted to protect in the first place; but that it would never let him down enough for it to give up on it, because Tny had always believed in people more than they did in him.

Peter's backpack was still laying on the ground, forgotten, resembling a bad metaphor. The teenager shut his eyes tight, once, and opened them again, confusion born out of exhaustion rather than anything else clear on his features.

"The highschool student, I guess," he answered finally. "They didn't ask for any of this. The superhero's more capable, they probably know what they're doing. And they'd want me to save innocents, instead of sacrificing someone to save them. Right?"

"I don't know," said Tony. "We had that debate with the Avengers, once, when that had still been a thing, and Cap' and Nat said the opposite. That saving a hero would lead to more people getting saved, in the end, that it was a strategic move. I never agreed; but they're soldiers, and I'm just a guy in some tin suit."

"But- but we're _heroes,_ " protested Peter. "I- saving civilians is what we do!"

"Is it? Or is it defeating bad guys? It all depends on how you look at it, kid. I had the same answer as you, but I can't tell you if it's the right one. Probably there isn't one. That's not the point right now, though."

"Mr. Stark-"

"You chose the student. Right?"

"Wha- you heard me!"

"Just wanted to confirm! But you did choose the student, so you think he's more important, fair?"

"Well- that really depends on the situation! I mean, no life is inherently more valuable than any other-"

"This isn't a trap question."

"I- I guess."

"So why is Spiderman more important than Peter Parker?"

Peter groaned. "That's not the same, Mr. Stark."

"Humor me."

"I- I know my normal life is important! I'm aware! You don't have to manipulate me into saying it!"

"Do you know? 'Cause it doesn't feel like it, Spiderling."

"It's just- When I'm Spiderman, I do good. I'm more useful- I help people! When I'm Peter Parker, I- what, I do homework? I play video games?"

"That's important too," said Tony, then realized he had never considered homework to be important once in his life, and grimaced. "Well- being a teenager is important. You can't be a superhero all the time, you wouldn't survive it."

"I _know,_ " said Peter.

"No, I actually mean it, okay, kid? It's fucking important. Mr. America didn't have anything resembling a real life, and as a result, he threw it all away the second a sliver of his ancient one reappeared."

Peter made to speak, then visibly hesitated at the bitterness in Tony's voice. He looked compassionate, ready to reach out, and Tony breathed out once, slowly, as down, the world continued to turn, because time had never stopped for anyone's broken illusions.

"I- I wouldn't do that," Peter finally offered.

"I doubt you would, you're better than all of us," replied Tony briskly, wrapping all his hurt in a flashy disguise of indifference.

"Mr. Stark-" started to say Peter, and Tony, who had faced death in space, alone, with a calm he had never had for anything else, couldn't bear the worry in his eyes any more than he had been able to bear Rhodey's gentle reassurances.

" _But remember_ that Spiderman never stopped being a highschooler in a costume, alright? No matter how much it pains me to call the suit a costume, it's still _you_ inside. And if you're just running hours and hours on end, and you don't have some kind of routine to fall back on, you'll get yourself killed. You can't be a useful superhero if you're not a functional human being, no matter how well you mean."

"That seems hypocritical of you to say," pointed out Peter, and Tony didn't shrink on himself, because that wasn't what Tony Stark _did;_ because when had it ever helped? Tony didn't shrink on himself, even though some distant, buried part of him may have wished to, and instead, he let out a laugh that felt like someone had wanted to turn a tragedy into a comedy, and failed.

"Well, learn from my mistakes, kid, because they hurt enough to make that I'd rather spare you the experience. Listen to the adult, okay? Just this once."

"But-"

Tony let out a breath, and slowly got up from the ground, while Peter stared confusedly at him. 

"I'll do something for your senses, okay? Headphones or earphones, whichever you'd prefer, and glasses too, if you need some. Gloves or whatever, just ask, okay, kid?"

"I mean- I didn't want to- I mean, thank you, but Mr. Stark- don't you have something better to do?"

"Peter," started to say Tony, and hated the pleading edge is voice had taken on. "If you only take advice from me once more, let it be this time, okay? _Ask for help_. It's terrible, and you never want to do it, but- but usually we work better as teams, okay? Just because mine got ridiculously fucked up doesn't mean the basics of it weren't sound. You do this because you want to help people, so for the love of all that you hold dear, _let people help you._ When I said I wanted you to be better than me, I meant it. That also means I want you to be _happier_."

"Oh," let out Peter, terribly small, and Tony refused to look at him.

"Go to sleep, kid. Your homework doesn't matter, and if you really think it does I can bribe your teachers, even if your Aunt might have a problem with that. And don't exhaust yourself, okay? I know if there had been an emergency you'd have come running no matter how tired, but you really can't rely on adrenaline that much. Go home, and I'll get to work on your projects. I'll call you when-"

"Mr. Stark, wait!"

Tony looked up to see Peter, still rooted in his spot, backpack long forgotten at his side. "I- thank you so much," he let out. "For- for the suit and the advice, I- it means a lot."

"It's nothing, really. The least I could do," dismissed Tony, and Peter frowned.

"It isn't. I wouldn't thank you if it was. Or, maybe I would, but I wouldn't _mean it_ and I do. I know you only see this as- paying your way forward, or something like that, but- you're the only hero that reached out to me, and you made me a suit, and you tried to help me. There are hero that aren't internationally wanted criminals, and that don't travel all around the world literally all the time, and they haven't done that. So- thank you," he trails off looking embarrassed at his sudden bout of honesty, and great, at least they're both embarrassed.

"You have to be patient with Vision, he still hasn't quite grasped onto the concept of mentorship," said Tony instead of acknowledging any of what's been said, which probably would have made Pepper hit him. "Please stop hanging on rooftops so much, some people are bound to become worried. See you, kid!"

And then Tony walked off the edge of the roof, because subtlety had never in a million years been his strong suit, and what was the point of enduring New York traffic when you could fly, uh?

(It also thankfully allowed for quicker exits from potentially feelings-heavy conversations, which Tony hadn't really foreseen when he had created the suit, but he couldn't say that was a downside.)

**Author's Note:**

> Tony Stark would rather die than accept a genuine compliment and I hate him. he's such an idiot. how dare he


End file.
